# Nightflier's Midnight Game Thread Game Master nightflier

Set in the grim world of Aryth, Nightflier's Midnight is a game that speaks of almost futile hope that shines against the darkness.

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Female Erenlander Spiritual Chaneller 5

Will save: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

nightflier:

Gilian follows her warden, looking for landmarks to remember the way to her rooms. Once there, she refreshes quickly, making use of the pool before dressing back.

Once back into her sitting room, she takes a seat and proposes on to her her warden, trying to make him trust her.

"Please, take a seat, Naarn. Am I pronouncing your name correctly? You can call me Gilian. As you know, we'll soon have to talk to some of your council. In order not to make any blunder, can you tell me more about the power structure in your city and about who is in your council, their function and what they stand for?

If I have well understood, you did not have any contacts with the surface for thousands of years, so they'll surely want to know about it, and it will be easier for us to do so if we already know what you know about the events on the surface."

In the mean time, Pebble waits by Gilian, listening to the warden answers and helping Gilian read his mind.

Diplomacy 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
and sense motive to evaluate his answers 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 29
Aid another sense motive for Pebble 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15 so a 31 total in sense motive

Vrand:
"Pleased to meet you, Vrand, I am Duncan Bloodforged."
As Vrand leads the way to the chambers assigned to Duncan, the young knight engages into conversation.
"So, Vrand, what can you tell me about the city? How old is it, how it was founded? We passed through the city of your ancestors, and I marveled at it, for in my short life I have never seen anything like it. But now, I think that you have probably surpassed your ancient kin."
Diplomacy1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26

Male Black Blood Dwarf Fighter 5

Will Save1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

Vron:
Sorok follows Vron through the city to his designated chambers, trying to capture all of the sights and workings of the Derro city and is amazed by the familiar, yet very alien workings of the city.

Upon settling into the sitting room of his quarters Sorok speaks to his guide.
"Yer architecture is impressive, yet strange. I'll be needing ye before this is over. I call myself Sorok. Suppose it'd be more appropriate to say Sorokhul, but Sorok is simpler.
I'll be needin to know a few things. First, the names of yer Clan Dor, and yer Dor'mut. Yer kin'll be wanting to hear what I have to say. Second, where are yer forges located? If we're to be hear a while I'll be wanting to work with yer smiths. Third, I'd like t' be understanding more of yer structure and clan. Lastly, I notice yer older than most of yer kin that came t' meet us. Is Speaker Vrin yer mother?"
Sorok eyes Vron for any sort of reaction to the last question.
Sense Motive:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

Will save 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Solvistania Elghreah wrote:

Solvistania is the last one to affix the stone in her head, (After examining the stone completely, casting Detect Magic as well) and she is silent all the while.

To Gilian's suggestion, she nods in acknowledgement.

As she enters the room, she waves Felina over and instructs her to watch over as she meditates, studying her Lorebook for any information about this city.

Knowledge Arcana 1d20+14+3
Will save 1d20+5

Solvi:
As Solvi sits to meditate, the young derro clears his throat. "My name is Ovrain, Speaker. I stand at your service", and brakes her concentration.

Nightflier:
Solvistania looks up and affixes a glare at the dwarf who dared to interrupt her, before she remembers Gilian's words. Visibly restraining her anger, she puts away her lorebook and gives him a half hearted smile, and responds "Ovrain, I am...honored by your presence. This Last City is fascinating, what can you tell me about it? How long ago was the city founded?"

Gilian wrote:

Will save: 1d20+9

** spoiler omitted **

Gilian:
Young derro looks at the healer barely taller than him and smiles shyly. "Thank you, Speaker. I shall stand. The watch is not done." He clears his throat and continues. "The City is ruled by the Clan Elders. Each Clan sends two Elders to represent them in the Meet, and the Meet chooses the Oldest. Speakers advise, teach, heal, keep records and have many other functions in our society." He stops for a moment, and then continues with a sense of wonder to his words. "Of course, we know that we came from the world above, many ages ago, but that time is lost to us. All that we know is this world."

Intuitively, you realize that he is telling the truth, and perhaps a bit more than he was instructed to.

Duncan Bloodforged wrote:

** spoiler omitted **

Duncan:
"This is the Last City, warrior", young derro replies. "It was always here. The First Speaker found it when she led the People from the Scourge Above. That is known."

Sorok Hamfael wrote:

Will Save1d20+5

** spoiler omitted **

Sorok:
For a long time, older derro looks at you with unreadable expression. Finally, he answers your questions, but with voice cold and emotionless as stone. "Vrin is not my mother. I am older than the Younglings because I am a Warder and they are Younglings. They train to become Warders", he explains. "Vrin has ordered me to guide you because of your likeness to Old Kings. I am yet to be convinced that you are something special, though", he says with complete lack of concern for your opinion of him, that much is obvious. "A person becomes a Warder when the Speaker binds him to her. Warder than becomes aware of his Speaker, and becomes more alert; his senses become sharper and with time he learns to deal with exertion in a way that makes him less tired and more wakeful even after long nights without any sleep. Those speakers who bond with Warders become stronger in health, and they can sense where we are as well. A Warder would give his life to protect the Speaker he is bonded to. Take heed of that.

I don't know the meaning of the words you used, though. I don't know what is "Dor" and "Dor'mut". And each clan has its own forges."

"Hi Troz, sure. Show me my chambers. Is there a bath?" Then he winks at Solvistania. "And if you don't mind, you can show her my chambers too. Solvi? And do you have any place wear a dworg could get some wine?"

male Dorn Barbarian 2, Spiritual Channeler 2

"Greetings Vornar. I am Ragnar. This is Ilona. I would prefer not to be separated from her."

Female Human (Sarcosan) Fighter 2/ Chaneller 3

Ilona smiles, squeezing Ragnar's hand.

"Greetings Var, Ragnar's right we would prefer to remain together while we are here."

Chops the Defender Dworg wrote:
"Hi Troz, sure. Show me my chambers. Is there a bath?" Then he winks at Solvistania. "And if you don't mind, you can show her my chambers too. Solvi? And do you have any place wear a dworg could get some wine?"

I assume this happens before Solvi gets escorted to her room by Ovrain.

Solvi turns and glances at the silent derro, wondering when he will announce himself. Hearing Durathoin's reply brings a flush to her face, and she asks quietly, "I would appreciate that as well. I am..." she pauses for a second before finishing up, "Durathoin's partner."

Female Erenlander Spiritual Chaneller 5

to Naarn:

"Thank you for your explanations, it's very helpful of you. I have a few more questions if you don't mind. Do you have many clans and can you tell me their names. One other question concerns the speakers. Do they work all together or do each clan has its own speaker hall and maybe it's own speciality?"

I will also assume that has happened before you were taken to the rooms.

The young derro look at each other and then at you. "We have received our instructions. You may ask the Speaker to change the arrangements in two glasses time, when you join her for dinner. I'm afraid that is against the custom for unmated males and females to share quarters", say Ovrain. He seems to be a bit more open than the other derro.

Gilian wrote:
** spoiler omitted **

Gilian:
"Yes, Speaker. There are ten Clans of the People. The clans have no names. They are know by numbers. The clan that followed First Speaker in the flight from the Scourge Above became the First Clan. The Second Clan arrived shortly after. The Tenth Clan was the last to discover the Last City. The Speakers stand separate from the clans. They are of all clans and none. They are servants to all, mastered by no one. Speakers are divided in six Disciplines. Each Discipline dedicated to one aspect of our society."

Female Human (Sarcosan) Fighter 2/ Chaneller 3

Ilona takes a deep breath turning towards Ragnar and reaching up to take his face in her hands. Her voice does not carry it's usual smolder or command, insted prodiding reassurance and security.

"We'll settle this at dinner. They's already asked too much, they're not going to get this too. We'll be together it's just a couple of hours, ok?"

She pulls him forward, kissing him then rests her foreheaad against his.

"Remember, you're not alone."

After you have refreshed and taken in your new surroundings, derro assigned to you came to take you to dinner. Once again, you are taken through the winding tunnels, up and down the long staircases and finally through the colored-glass, in the shape of butterfly wings.

Behind them you find a large oval chamber with an equally larger white table, made of some kind of carved bone. There are about twenty chairs at the table and half of them are filled with old derro in grey robes. At the head of the table you recognize Vrin, and Vron goes to stand at her shoulder as soon as he leads Sorok through the door.

Younglings take their place along the chamber wall as you approach the table to sit. But you realize that there are no two free seats adjacent to each other. You must sit between derro.

As soon as you find your seats, a part of the stone wall behind Vrin seemingly melts away and derro dressed in white enter the chamber, bearing trays with steaming piles of food, that looks like strange fish, root-like vegetables and mushrooms, but there is some kind of meet as well.

Vrin smiles and says, "You must be hungry. Please, have a pleasant meal. We can talk while we eat."

Solvistania takes her seat at the table where her Derro bodyguard/jailer indicates without a word. Her mind is racing and her thoughts are jumbled together, as she is nearly overwhelmed by all of the new things her mind has noticed. She also realizes her self discipline, which she has always prided herself on, is not as complete as it used to be. Vrin had spoken to her of the fractures in her mind. Could it be her greatest weapon to battle the Shadow has been damaged, much like the finest blade developing a fissure along the edge, which leads to it being shattered given time?

NO! She refused to accept that. Her mind was strong, as strong as if not stronger than before! Plus her power was growing...

She helps herself to the steamed vegetables, fish, and even some meat as her body screams its craving for nourishment long denied it. Sitting at the dinner table reminds her of similar meals she partook at the Queen's dining hall, where her tainted blood was on display for all to see. Only the look Durathoin gave her helped drive away those old memories.

In between courses, she turns to Ovrain, and repeats her question from earlier: "What can you say about how the Last City was founded? Nothing in the old lore suggests a city such as this ever existed."

Male Black Blood Dwarf Fighter 5

Sorok sat at his appointed spot at the dinner table. Vron's earlier words still echoed in his mind. Despite sitting among those he took as his kin, they knew nothing of the old customs or meanings that every Dwarf on the surface had ingrained into them well before their naming day. It was strange for Sorok to think that words such as Dor, Kogah, and more importantly his own shameful name Sorok, were simply that to these Derro. Words. Within the villages and clan holds of the Kaladrun Mountains, spanning all the way from the Ice Walls in the far north to the southern most slopes leading to the White Desert, they had meaning and were well known. Here they were simply hollow shells.

The smell of food however momentarily drove these thoughts off as his stomach rumbled loudly and he could feel his mouth started to water at the sight of so much readily available. As soon as the white robed servants set the trays down he immediately begins to in-hail the food in front of him.

Female Erenlander Spiritual Chaneller 5

Taking the seat facing Vrin, Gilian spends some time in silence looking at the derro sitting around the table and trying to guess the currents between them. As none of them elects to speak, she leans back in her seat, enjoying the presence of furniture cut to her size and adresses the assembly:
"As you all know, we have travelled from the surface to your city through the dark city ruled by the undead king. This journey was forced by necessity and for a goal we will discuss at a later time. However, as my friend has already said, we did not expect to find your city as the knowledge of its existence has been lost, if it was ever there. As our worlds have evolved separately for thousands of years, our customs may have diverged and I hope you will excuse us if we do or say something that you find offensive. Be assured that it will not be done with the will to offence but only out of ignorance."

Taking a sip of the offered beverage and a bit of fish, she goes on:

"It is customary, on the surface for guests to present themselves first. SO I will start. I am sure Speaker Vrin has already told you about us from what she read in our minds, but I will try to put words on our thoughts. As you can see, we look really different from one another. This is because each of us hail from a different race or location on the surface. Nine of us were gathered together for this mission and four of us lost their lives or souls but three other joined us. What we endured together has bound us and as my trade is that of the body, I will use it to present us."

Gilian turns towards both Ilona and Solvistania.
"As you see, there are three woman in our midst. Solvistania is from one of the old races and represents our mind. Ilona hails from the southern ranges and is human like me. She is our soul while I am the heart.
But a being is nothing without memories, that is the role of Ragnar, who comes from the cold north and is taught by the spirits of his relatives and ancestors. Sorok, one of your kin, is our shield or wader. Chops is our members, the arms that protect and punish or the legs that never falter however long or hard is the road. Duncan is our chest and face, to show the world what we are. Lyj is the last to join, but he aims to be our eyes, those that see in the dark."

As she names all her companions, Gilian nods to each of them. Taking a deep breath, she looks each of the derro in the eyes, assessing their reaction.

"We have been open with you to thank you for your hospitality and will be happy to answer your questions. For now, and so as to be sure of adressing you properly, could you share your names or titles with us?"

Northern Erethor, The Coldest Wood, LA 98, Winter

For days and months you have been traveling. To the north. Always to the north. Driven by your dreams, driven by the wind that constantly whispered around you like a living thing. North and northwest you've been traveling, reliving those seven years dead memories in your dreams. Dreams that urged you forward. To the north. Always to the north.

Snows have been forty foot deep and the wind cuts you to the bone howling out of the north, but the real enemy is the cold. At the same time it burns you and makes you sleepy. Makes you want to dream about a clean world, without the taint, without the darkness.

But you have fought against the cold. You fight still. Against the cold, against the wind; hunger that gnaws you, nightmares that torment you.

And you remember.

Standing together in that grim underworld, on the shores of the darkness-cloaked lake. Side by side, with drawn blades - waiting to die.

You survived. But the others... Your friends, companions, brothers and sisters... You don't know what happened to them.

For seven long years you didn't know anything. But then, the dreams started. Nightmares beckoning you to the north, always to the north. Always to the north...

In the distance granite and obsidian spires of the Highhorn Mountains thrust toward the brooding firmament like the shattered bones of some ancient beast. Somehow, you can feel a malefic force, a palpable menace that breeds evil within their trackless depths. That stretches its hand towards you, trying to drown you in the bleakness and despair.

But you don't give up. Those memories give you warmth, strength to go on. To spit in the Shadow's eye one more time, just for the laughs of it.

________________

As if summoned by that thought, from the dense woods of snow oak that covers the floor of the valley in front of you rises a wondrous sight - on an outcrop of rock high above the valley floor stands a sequoia of
immense size, somehow transformed into glistening steel. It is hard to judge precisely from that distance, but it seems that the trunk of the tree is more than hundred feet in diameter at its base and almost thousand feet high. The tree’s lower limbs are missing; all that remains are its distant crown and several boughs radiating higher up the trunk.

The great tapering trunk gives to the tree an appearance of a gigantic
silver thorn thrusting up from the earth into the snow-laden clouds; behind, the brooding, snow-capped peaks of the Highhorn Mountains dwarf the enormous tree and create an ominous backdrop against which it glints defiantly.

You have arrived. Aigeathir. Silverthorn.

1d6 ⇒ 1

1d6 ⇒ 3

Solvistania rests against a rock laying near the base of Silverthorn. She hears a familiar purring and senses Felina's question.

She shakes her head imperceptibly, her gaze haunted as she stares at the immense sight.

No, Felina. We wait here for now...

Earth Elemental Familiar 5

Pebble stands in the snow, his body covered in snow, icicles already forming along his arms. He stops from his relentless work are clearing a path through the snow and calls back to the two shapes emerging from the woods cover.

"There is a huge tree on the other side, mistress. Is it where we must go?"

1d6 ⇒ 3

Female Erenlander Spiritual Chaneller 5

Closing to where Pebble stands, Gilian keeps her cloak closely snug around her to conserve heat. Stamping her foot to remove the snow, her heavy breathing raises into the air as she answers.

"I hope so, I'm getting awfully tired of all this cold and snow and I worry about Alan. Were it not for my collars new power, I don't know if we would have made it."

At these words, a small head emerges from the cloak. A young boy sleepily peeks through the opening a a light voice asks in a sing song way. "Are we there yet, mum?"

"Not yet, pumpkin, but me may be close. See that huge tree there. I think it looks like what the wind told us to look for."

Smiling to her little boy, Gilian turns towards the tall man at her side, with a similar smile. Her hand raises to stroke his face as he come close.
"Now that Alan is awake, would you mind carrying him ? He's getting heavier by the day, I swear."

1d6 ⇒ 4

Male Erunsil (Snow Elf) Fighter 5

4 some reason my phone didn't take rolled a 5

Returning the smile and the gentle caress, Duncan messes up the hear of the yawning boy.
"Sure, but let me first go a bit ahead, I do want to make certain that nothing bad is lying in wait. I'll be back in a moment, you two stay here a bit."
Seeing eagerness in his son's eyes, Duncan raises a hand before the boy can speak.
"Alan, I know you would like nothing better than to come with me, but I need you to stay with your mother and protect her. We wouldn't want anything happening to her, now would we."
With another bright smile directed toward the small woman that means the world to him, he bows down and kisses first his son putting his hand reassuringly on his shoulder, as one would to a brother in arms, and gives a soft lingering kiss to Gilian."Keep your eyes open", he whispers.
"Kind Sir Pebbles, would you like to accompany me underground at some distance?", he asks strapping his shield to his left forearm and drawing a shiny length of a bastard sword from his hip.
With the last look for Gilian, he turns and watching his surroundings strides towards the tree-tower.

Raven Spiritual Channeler 5

1d6 ⇒ 5

"Looks like'a homewood tree made of metal. Didja see all the wing shadows when we were coming up the path? There's a lot o' birds up there. A lotta big birds. I'm comin' with ya, Pumpkin." Muni says, flapping from Ilona's shoulder and flitting to the lower branches of a tree in the direction Duncan heads.

Since Duncan rolled a 1, I'm not gonna wait for the rest of the rolls. He is the first who appeared from the woods. The rest of you are appearing in the order of your rolls. Take note of the fact that everyone thinks that Sky is still dead and nobody knows the new PC.

Tall Erenlander walks out underneath protective branches of the ancient snow oaks. Pale leaves rustles for a moment, but then everything is quiet once again. He is still young, but the passage of time has taken its toll. There are gray hairs in his otherwise dark hair and there are few deep-etched lines on his weathered face. But otherwise, he looks strong as the oaks that protected him from the winds just moments before.

Female Human (Sarcosan) Fighter 2/ Chaneller 3

1d6 ⇒ 4

Ilona came to a stop as the massive tree came into sight, she had been drawn to this place, travelling north for longer than she cared to remember, only knowing that she needed to be here.

A lot had happened, much only vaguely remembered, and yet she stood, the years seeming to have had almost no effect on her, until the veiw reached her eyes.

Deep red irises seemed to hold a bottled hurricane of emotion, loss, defiance, sadness, joy, rage....

A chill wind blew, tussling her hair, grown almost half way down her back as Muni launched himself from her shoulder, the raven's presence a comforting center in the storm of sensation perpetually brewing inside her.

Guys am I the only one who thinks that we haven't really seen each other yet? I was certain that nightflier would have said so in his opening post. I figured that stepping out of the forest would reveal our presence, and that Duncan came out first. I mean, there would have been a lot more reaction and emotions from both him and Gilian if they actually saw you before their posts.

Male Dorn Barbarian/Lv1, Wildlander/Lv1, Fighter/Lv3

1d6 ⇒ 5

The tall Dornish man walks easily and quickly on to the snow, he barely seems to notice the cold winds blowing as he looks to the Erunsil fortress, a neutral expression on his face.

Male Erunsil (Snow Elf) Fighter 5

Hiding. Still as the un-natural metal tree standing before him, he watched the others approach. Lying atop his warm cloak in the edge of the forest, his heart leaped into his throat as he saw the others approach the tower. He wanted to run and embrace them...yet some were missing. And he was not the same...Yes his eyes were still the same, and most of his memories were still the same. He supposed that even his mannerisms, and the way he fought, and carried himself might evoke memories of his former self. But would they know him...and more importantly would they believe him.

Only one way to find out...these were people that he once cared for, and trusted with his life. And he carried with him more questions than answers. With a shrug he rose to his feet, shaking the snow from his hair, and striding into the clearing. Hands well away from his weapons. He walked towards the group. His head held high. Some of them he did not recognize, but the others were faces that had drifted in and out of his notice during his long cold sleep.

Solvistania gazes on the return of her companions...her friends...and her face breaks out in a mixture of relief and sadness. Relief for seeing those who had shared her path, sadness for those who are still missing.

She steps out into the open and looks at Duncan, then Gilian, Ilona, and the Dornish warrior, unfamiliar to her. As her gaze moves to the final companion, her gaze intensifies and she grips her longbow her hand running reflexively over its smooth surface.

It cannot be...my eyes are deceiving me. They must be wrong, but it IS him...

"Sky'tor...it is you..."

After months of traveling and hiding from the Shadow, faces other than your own are shocking to your eyes. Some faces are familiar and you feel a blossoming of joy in your hearts - some are not and you sense fear. But most of all, some faces are not there and because of that you feel bottomless sorrow and tired rage...

Sky knows Duncan, but he is now in a new body, so he is unknown to others. And nobody knows Darren. The absence of Ragnar and Chops should be noted.

Seeing two unknown warriors, Duncan assumes defensive stance. Warily, he eyes them from head to heel. Then, seeing Ilona and Solvistania with their companions despite his caution, he can not help but grin widely, overflown by emotions. He almost starts running towards them, not entirely certain who to approach first. In the end, he decides to go for the closer Solvistania waving Ilona to come to them. As he comes to stand before the elven channeler, his gazes slides from Solvi to the unknown warriors. He is a bit uncertain, not yet willing to call Gilian to meet them.

"Lady Solvistania, I can not even begin to describe how glad my heart is to see both you and Ilona. We have searched for you for years... However, we have been chased for far too long, and Shadow is devious. I have to ask you both to tell me something only we would know, to lift the doubt from my heart completely and let it rejoice."

His eyes flicker back and forth between the figures on the clearing, still trying to gauge the potential danger.

Knowledge(Lore) DC 10:
The huge metal tree that looms in the distance is Silverthorn, called Aigeathir in the dialect of the snow elves. This is the greatest of the Erunsil citadels on the Fortress Wall.

Male Dorn Barbarian/Lv1, Wildlander/Lv1, Fighter/Lv3

Perception1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Though he was unfamiliar to the new arrivals, Darren did not show any sign of open hostility towards them, though he did not show any immediate trust either.
I don't recognize any of them from the raiders and if they are here it can only mean they are not hostile. Some of them seem familiar with each other.
Knowledge Lore1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
After taking in the group before him, he calls out in an accented Erenlander tongue.
"You seem unfamiliar with this place, you should have little fear of attack for you are within sight of the gates of Aigeathir, the greatest of the snow elven citadels to stand against the Shadow. You are well within the defensive borders and can count yourselves among friends here."

Knowledge Lore 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (14) + 15 = 29

Solvistania looks over to Duncan and as her gaze passes over the newcomer, she notes every detail of his face and body, cataloging him for future reference. On his comment of their location, she only glances up to the towering fortress whispering softly almost to herself, ”I am…familiar with this place.”

Returning her attention back to Duncan, she softly replies”I…I have been through much and I fear the taint of the Shadow has grown heavy on my heart. Rest assured Duncan I wish you no harm…coming from Durathoin’s beloved, which should be all you need to realize.”

Female Human (Sarcosan) Fighter 2/ Chaneller 3

"Duncan Bloodfoged, Swordbreaker Extraordinaire!" Ilona smiles as she steps into the clearing, striding forward and greeting the big man with a hug.

"It has been far too long."

Looking over to Solvi she locks eyes with her, seeing in them the same pain that must be reflected in her own. Without a word shee embraces the elven woman, pent up emotion threatening to slip.

Earth Elemental Familiar 5

At Duncan feet, the snow raises then drops to let emerge the rough humanoid shape you have come to associate with Pebble. It raises a fist in the air.

"Wohoo, we've found them. I'll go and get Mistress Gilian. What a surprise they'll have."

Pebble plunges back into the frozen ground.

Female Erenlander Spiritual Chaneller 5

A few minutes later, Gilian emerges from the forest, a smile on her lips as she scans the little group gathered around Duncan. She looks around at the two newcomers, searches for more silhouettes and bends towards the ground to murmur something to Pebble.
"You can't sense them, can you?

Then, her smile half frozen, she steps forwards to meet her two and a half friends.
"Ilona, Solvi, it's so good to see you again? And I'm not forgetting you, Muni.", she adds.

"We've got lots of things to tell you, Duncan and I. And you must have as well."

As she opens her arms to hug Solvi and Ilona, her cloak opens.A little child, carried in a makeshift sling looks at them with eyes wide open.

"This is Alan, our child, born almost four years ago. alan, let me present you Solvistania and Ilona. And the Raven here is Muni. Don't listen to him."

Solvistania shudders in Ilona’s embrace. As she looks into her eyes, Ilona can see unshed tears brimming. Clearly the loss of Durathoin has been difficult on the frail elorg.

As she greets Gilian, she notes Alan and stares intently at the child, a range of conflicting emotions running over her face and in her blood red eyes. ”Greetings, Gilian, Alan.” she softly utters.

Female Erenlander Spiritual Chaneller 5
Solvistania Elghreah wrote:

Solvistania shudders in Ilona’s embrace. As she looks into her eyes, Ilona can see unshed tears brimming. Clearly the loss of Durathoin has been difficult on the frail elorg.

As she greets Gilian, she notes Alan and stares intently at the child, a range of conflicting emotions running over her face and in her blood red eyes. ”Greetings, Gilian, Alan.” she softly utters.

Slowly, Gilian unwraps Alan and sets him on the ground. "Hush, now, I need to talk to my friends, there."

Laying a hand on Solvi's arm, she peers into the elorg eyes, "You've been alone too long, my fiend, alone with you pain. Whenever you wish, you can talk to us. We can help both of you carry your burdens.", she adds to Ilona.

Duncan gives Solvistania a reassuring hug, showing his acceptance. The pain he saw in her eyes for a second, and the hurt for his distrust are too great for him not to believe her.
Lore1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
The moment Ilona steped closer, all doubt was gone from Duncan. Her eyes blasing, her radiance not one bit diminished with the years gone by, he didn't need any other proof. Nobody could in any way duplicate power of her presence.
He returns her smile and her hug, their armor plates making soft metallic sound.
"Ilona, more gorgeous than ever. And for the record, I haven't broken any blades lately. Probably because no magic ones were around, breaking plain steel is not as much fun."

Turning to the Dornish stranger, Duncan says politely:"Stranger, I mean no disrespect, but as long as we live under the Shadow I will not assume that any place is completely safe. And if fortress such as this one ever falls, it will not be because of the strength of the assailants, but because of some trick or treachery."

He turns back towards the ladies as Pebbles emerges from the ground and then goes back again to bring back Gilian and Alan.
Taking a few moments to look at long lost friends, Duncan's suspicions are confirmed. He was never half as good as Gilian at reading people, but he need not even ask about Chops and Ragnar, it is apparent from their eyes that their souls have suffered from being separated from their lovers. But the effect it had on them is vastly different. While Solvi is fighting despair and darker areas of her mind that are reaching to grab her, Ilona is like a wildstorm, fueling her rage and giving her more power.

And for a second, he considers himself very lucky for somehow staying together with Gilian, while being concerned about their reaction to something Gilian and he have, and Ilona and Solvi have lost. But as Gilian approaches them, he chases away those thoughts, telling himself that they will probably be happy for them more than anything else.

Gilian wrote:
Laying a hand on Solvi's arm, she peers into the elorg eyes, "You've been alone too long, my fiend, alone with you pain. Whenever you wish, you can talk to us. We can help both of you carry your burdens.", she adds to Ilona.

Felina meows loudly to attract the attention of the healer. Gilian hears in her mind, "Puurrrr...the mistress has not been alone....purrr...I have walked with her every step of the way....puurrr..." There is a faint sense of reproach in the feline's tone.

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